


Apollo's White Raven

by MagicalRainbowUnicornPuke, Might_suck_but_thats_ok



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anxiety, Death Threats, Depression, Disowned Lance, Eventual Relationships, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lance (Voltron) Needs a Hug, M/M, Mechanic Keith (Voltron), Motorcycles, Multi, Sense 8 au, Skype, Slow Burn, Slurs, Soldier Shiro (Voltron), Texan Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-10 22:49:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16463870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicalRainbowUnicornPuke/pseuds/MagicalRainbowUnicornPuke, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Might_suck_but_thats_ok/pseuds/Might_suck_but_thats_ok
Summary: In which Lance, Shiro, and Keith think they are going insane. They hear gunfire in the middle of the street, feel rain on a sunny day, and taste coffee while drinking sweet tea. None of them can figure out what is going on until one day a man threatens the trio, revealing what they are. Soulmates.





	1. Chapter 1

I stood behind a damaged, broken wall, staring at the man in front of me. He had one large hand pressed against his shoulder, the other holding a walkie talkie. “I need cover fire immediately. There is an ambush waiting for us North, 15 meters from my current location.” His tone was grave, angry, and authoritative. Whoever this man was, he knew what he was doing and he probably did it well. There was dirt and grime covering his face, but I could make out a pink scar across his nose that reminded me of Scar from Lion King.

“Copy that Black, backup will be there in five.” A voice replied calmly. The man instantly slumped down with a soft sigh, bracing his head against the wall, his helmet making a muffled thump against the rock.

“Please tell me this is a dream.” I said, staring at the bodies, the debris, fires, and smoke around me. I was confused as _fuck._ One second I was in my dingy apartment bathroom at 2 a.m, and here, it seemed to be about noon. At first I thought I had fainted after taking a hot shower; but the things was, I could _feel_ the heat of the sun and the slight breeze that appeared out of nowhere. The man whirled to the side swiftly, gun drawn and pointed at me, making me raise my hands in a nonthreatening manner. He stared at me with his brow furrowed, and I bet I looked ridiculous. Mostly naked with only a towel around the waist in the middle of nowhere.

“Who are you? Where did you come from?” He demanded, the barrel of the large gun aimed at my head.

“U-Um, I’m Lance McClain, and I _was_ in my bathroom.” I replied, gesturing to the towel hastily tied around my waist. He looked me over, staring at the navy blue towel wrapped around my waist before taking in my wet body and damp hair. “In Texas… where the hell am I?” Judging from the building style, and the desert like terrain, I could assume it was somewhere in the eastern hemisphere.

“Afghanistan.” He clipped, lowering his gun a smidgen. Once I saw him putting his weapon down slightly, I slowly put my hands down as well.

“Holy fuck,” I breathed wide eyed, glancing at the blood staining his fingers. “So this is real?”

“As real as it can get.” He said tiredly, gray eyes watching my every move. “You need to get out of the open before you get shot.” Oh, right. I hurriedly went to his side and crouched down, careful not to let my junk show. I pulled the towel lower, making sure my thighs wouldn't be exposed as well.

“What the fuck is going on?” I demanded, sweeping my arms out at the scene before me. If I wasn't here, _could_ I get shot? Was that even a possibility?

“ _That_ is confidential information.” He replied, “but they are about to get their asses kicked.”

I shook my head, “No, no. I mean about _this_. How did I get here? Why am I here?”

The man was silent for a few seconds before saying, “I have no idea. Maybe I am hallucinating from the heat and you're not actually here. Maybe you're just dreaming. I don't know. Whatever this is, whatever is going on. Is _impossible._ ” I hummed in agreement. Yet somehow, I knew I wasn’t hallucinating or dreaming. They never felt this real either. Something this extreme _had_ to be real.

Then in the distance, there was a faint roar, and I realized that it was the airstrike the soldier had called in. “Are you by yourself?” I asked concerned, watching the aircraft gain on the small town ahead of us.

“I am now,” He said wistfully, but there was a soft smile on his face. “One of my men got hurt so I sent them back so he could obtain medical assistance.”

“I-I’m sorry to hear that.” I stammered out, not knowing what to say. What are you supposed to say to a soldier who was alone in a hostile environment, facing off with more than one man with guns.

“It’s fine, he will make it. He is a very strong willed individual.” He said, watching the sky for his support. “Been by his side for four years and he's never let me down. I try to do the same.”

“Well…” I started, furrowing my eyebrows at the bitter tone he used. “I think you're doing a pretty damn fine job Black. I don't know what you are doing or why _you're_ here, but it must be important. Plus, you're fucking brave for staying by yourself.”

Black didn't say anything, just stared at me as if I had grown two heads and extra eyes. For whatever reason, I felt attached to him already. He felt important in someway, special. He was a stranger, a possible figure of my imagination, but he was significant to me in some way.

“You're wounded too,” My eyes flickered between the bullet wound in his arm back to his grey eyes.

“This? That's nothing but a flesh wound.” Black said, shifting his body so that his back was no longer against the wall.

“Do you not have bandages? Why don’t you fix it up before the airstrike gets here?” I acquired, looking at the massive bag he carried.

“I gave them to Rebel, since he used most of his yesterday.”

I fidget nervously, eyeing my towel, since it was the only thing I had. “Well um, you can use some of my towel if you have a knife.”

Black allowed a small smirk, raking his eyes over my body, but this time it felt different. The previous time was guarded and hesitant. Now it was open, hungry, and amused. “That's pretty gay of you, offering me the only thing that's covering yourself up.”

My face heat up more than the desert sand I was sitting on. “I-I didn't mean it like _that_. You can have some of my towel, not all of it you pervert.”

Black raised one hand up in defense, as if saying ‘hey don't judge me.’ He then proceeded to remove his knife from the belt around his waistband. I inched closer, carefully unrolling a good chunk of my soft, blue towel for him to cut. It took him all about five minutes to get the job done, and just in time too because the sleek black aircrafts passed overhead.

  
“Can you tell me your name, at least?” I asked, staring at him intently, and his gaze was just as intense as the bombs being dropped. Rocks, dirt, and smoke flew up into the air, which was swiftly followed by more fire and yelling. Black raised his gun again, finger turning the safety off once more.

I wanted to look him up, make sure he was real. I wanted to know before I woke up, in case he didn’t make it.

“It’s Shiro.”

 

…

I stood dumbstruck back in the bathroom in front of the sink, exactly where I had been when I… left? I grabbed my phone hastily to check the time, because I knew at least 10-15 minutes must have passed; yet the time still said 2 a.m The hot fog was still in the air, yet it was cooler than Afghanistan. I could _feel_ the temperature difference. Then, the rip in my towel confirmed it. I ran my fingertips over the frays of the ruined towel, and I let it drop in disbelief. 

“Fuck,” I cursed, sliding down till I sat on the floor. Quickly, I came to the conclusion that it had in fact been real. Pulling up Google, I typed in the name Shiro, and began to search.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I try to write 2,000-4,000 words per chapter, it always seems so short XD
> 
> This chapter is based off of my past experience loosing my best friend to suicide two years ago and the brief time freshman year in high school I went mute. Except Lance's "mute" experience isn't as extreme as mine. It's not triggering by any means.

After I met Shiro, I started to do some research, looking for a sound explanation. I looked up teleportation, visions, spirits, etc. But nothing explained what had occured yesterday. Nothing added up, and after three hours at the library, I wanted to give up. With a heavy sigh, I logged out of the library computer and gathered up the few books I had decided to check out. I still had hope though. There were tons of theorists out there, thousands of articles about mysterious happenings and miracles.

Putting in both of my earbuds, I picked one of the many sad playlists I had created over the past months. Once the song started to play, I hoisted my bag up and proceeded to leave, waving at the librarian assistant as I left.

Most of the time, I felt as if my life had no purpose. Monday through Sunday, I just existed, trying to survive college and the fee dickheads that would harass me every once in awhile.. I had no direction, no idea what I wanted to do with my life, where I wanted to go, who I wanted to be. It was a depressive state I couldn't dig myself out of. Sometimes, I thought of dying, joining the people that I had lost in the past years. Without them, I was nothing. I couldn't even  _ imagine _ a future without my family, my best friend. Yet, I had too. I  _ try  _ to at least. But it's never easy. Life, I realized, was something to not take for granted. You need to hold onto every second that’s thrown your way because it could very well be the last. Now a days, I was just letting time slip through my fingers like sand. But meeting Shiro had something stirring inside, like maybe he could be the reason I stayed. Because at the moment, there is nothing standing in the way of me and death. No one was waiting around for me anymore.

I sighed heavily, returning my attention to the music playing idly on my phone.

_ When I saw you I would lose control _

_ Made me feel like there was no tomorrow _

_ Should've told you that you ́re beautiful _

_ but the days pass and now it’s so long ago _

 

_ Did you make it? _

_ Did you break free? _

_ Did you manage to be who you wanna be? _

_ Maybe somewhere you think about me too _

_ I wonder where are you now _

The music continued, filtering out all the background noise. Traffic, conversations, even the construction was indistinguishable. The walk from the library is long, approximately twenty minutes from the dingy apartment building I lived in. When I reached the crosswalk, I looked to the left and right briefly, seeing no approaching cars. I quickly changed the song, then went to step out to cross the street when a hand grabbed me and jerked me back quickly, and I watched in shock as a car whizzed by. I took out my headphones and paused the music, looking at the person who pulled me back to safety. I felt slight disappointment at not being hit, but at the same time I was relieved. I would like to go on my own terms, my rules.

The man had a faint pink scar on his face with silver steel eyes. My eyes lit up in recognition. “S-Shiro?! What are you doing here? You're not dead are you?” I asked, mortified at the thought.  _ How the fuck did he get here? _

The serious look on his face that he gave me lessened, and something soft replaced it. “I am back on base now actually, but thanks for your concern,” He replied, frowning at the cars passing behind me. “You need to be more careful, especially with all these idiots on the road.”

I scoffed, “Says the one who got shot yesterday.”

“I was doing my job,” He retorted, crossing his arms as he stared down at me. Today he wore a faded grey, long sleeve shirt with black sweatpants and normal tennis shoes. All the dirt and blood washed away. I could see his skin a lot clearer now, how smooth and soft it looked. Without his bulky clothes and enormous backpack, his muscles were more prominent uncovered. They were  _ well defined.  _ Dog tags hung around his neck, and I tried not to stare at the words engraved into the metal.

“I still have your towel, by the way,” Shiro informed me, changing the topic. He tugged me away from the curb, his hand feeling warm on my arm. They were large, almost wrapping around   my entire arm. We stopped by the side of the nearest building. He dug inside his pocket and fished out the clean, bloodless strip of blue cloth.

Letting out a deep breath I didn’t even know I was holding I took it out of his hands. He  _ washed  _ it? “What the fuck does this mean then? I was actually in Afghanistan yesterday? I witnessed the army blow people up?” I ranted, staring at the bandage wrapped around Shiro's arm. My eyes flicked back up to his face. The look Shiro sends my way is full of sympathy and guilt.

“I wish I knew why this is happening, and if it is going to happen again. If you can physically leave things behind, then it would make sense that you can get hurt.” He sounded on edge as he

Unease flooded over me, remembering how I could feel the hot sand and the harsh sun rays at noon in Afghanistan. “I‘ve been doing some research and I haven’t found anything  _ close  _ to what we are experiencing.” It was aggravating, not knowing what the hell was going on. I never liked not knowing something.

“I would help, but I would probably get sent to do a psych evaluation.” Shiro’s lips cracked upwards in amusement.

“Just say you’re writing a book,” I offered with a small smile, quitting as someone walked past before continuing. “Are we sure that others can’t see you?”

Before Shiro can say anything I atske action, asking the next person that walks by. “Ma’am, can I ask you something real quick?” I asked hastily before they walked away. She pauses in her step and redirects her attention from her phone, to me.

“Sure! How can I help you?” She asked, giving me a friendly smile.

“Can you see a man standing next to me? Tall, buff, has an undercut with a white tuft of hair?” I asked bluntly, omitting  _ dashingly handsome _ . Next to me, Shiro groaned, smacking his face in exasperation. I snickered, watching as the girl flicked her eyes to Shiro (or rather the space next to me), and then back to me.

“Um, no?” She replied slowly, as if she didn’t know what the correct answer was.

“Oh, okay, well thank you!” I told her cheerily, watching her back away suspiciously.

“Maybe it isn’t a good idea to go around asking people if they can see me,” Shiro cautioned. “You could arrested with the idea of doing drugs.”

I shrugged indifferently. I would do anything to figure this out.

“Where were you headed before I… arrived?” Shiro asked .

“I just got off work so I was gonna go back the apartment.” I replied, pointing to the building complex that finally came into view, I hoped he would be gone before we got there. Not that I didn’t enjoy his company! It’s like… have you have met someone and you instantly felt a connection, kind of like that love at first sight bullshit? My pull towards Shiro was like that.  _ Magnetized _ . You just couldn’t stay away from the person, like the moon’s gravitational pulls on nearby meteors. I certainly crashed into his life.

“Do you want to head that way? I can walk you.” Shiro suggests sheepishly, red barely tinting his cheeks. My mind stuttered as I tried to process if he was blushing or if it was because of the weather. Once I gave my consent, we waited for the passing cars to drive by before walking quickly across the street.

We passed pawn shops, a CVS, and a local burger joint, which Shiro seemed to enjoy looking at. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

“Not really. I normally get two weeks off  for Christmas and two weeks in the summer. I normally visit some friends but I don’t travel much. I’d rather go with someone rather than myself, you know?”

I nodded wistfully in agreement. My family would always travel the states during Christmas break. Now I never leave the city. Even if Shiro doesn’t travel all that much, he’s seen more of the world then me. He’s probably been all over Europe. We quickly reached the apartment complex, and without even a second glance at the elevator, I took to the stairs. The stairs were made of cold concrete, the lights flickering like a typical horror scene. The place was old, but it wasn’t like it was completely run down. And even if it was, this was all I could afford.  

“Do you think this is going to happen regularly?” I wondered aloud walking up the stairs to the second floor where I resided.

“I hope not,” Shiro admitted, walking a step behind me. My heart felt like it plummeted off of Mount Everest. The silence thickened, and I began to wonder if he was going to continue the sentence or not; but when I turned around he wasn’t there.  _ Gone _ .

Sucking in a deep breath, I opened my apartment door hastily. Slamming the door behind me, I toed my shoes off and stripped my jacket off. All day I was walking on a tightrope, and his disappearance,  _ shoved _ me off of it. Biting my trembling lip, I cursed myself silently as I tossed my backpack onto the ratty couch without a care. For  _ eight months _ , I haven’t talked to anyone beside my boss, coworkers, and the customers. Shiro was the first  _ voluntary  _ conversation I have had yet. Shiro, I barely knew. So why _ , why  _ did I care so much about his opinions, his safety, his perception of me? It was hard to swallow, recounting the words he spoke before vanishing back to Afghanistan.  _ I hope not.  _ Why did no one want to be around me? I knew for some people it was hard, not being able to spend a lengthy amount of time with me. I was dubbed annoying, clingy, too flirty. Now, everyone assumed I was just the shy, quite guy.

The last time this happened, my best friend… well I said he was my best friend, but in reality, we could have been _ so much more.  _ My  _ friend,  _ Luke,  _ texted  _ me that he no longer wanted to be friends with him, and all I said with heavy fingers was “Is that what you  _ really _ want?” At the time

I was a coward, I can admit that now. I ran when I should have fought for him. I didn’t argue with him when he said we were no longer friends. If that gave him peace and happiness... it was my job to give that to him, even if that meant abandoning my own. It would provide relief from his parents vice grip. Telling him that I wasn’t going to give up on him should have been the easiest thing to say, but it that day it got stuck in the back of my throat. Once you’ve tasted a love  _ that _ strong you can’t go back and you can’t settle on anything less; and that’s what got me. Without him, I was lost. I remember looking forward to the moment he  _ does  _ look me in the face. I hoped that maybe Luke would change his mind, decide that being my friend, my  _ only family _ , was more important than his family telling him to abandon me. Instead of seeing the light and reassurance that everything would be all right, all I saw was coldness and  emptiness in his eyes. It was as if I meant nothing to him. It hurt ten times more, knowing that he knew I only had him left. He looked at me.  _ Through  _ me, as if I wasn’t there. To him, I no longer existed, and I couldn’t agree more.

These days I certainly did feel like a ghost. I was conflicted, not knowing if it was within my rights to demand him to stay, to  _ not  _ leave. He can easily ask who I thought I was to demand such a thing. It wasn’t like it was something unrealistic to ask for.

Scrubbing my eyes furiously with the balls of my fists, I entered the bathroom. Anytime I felt stressed or anxious, a bubble bath usually helped. The warmer the better. I used to get teased about it all the time. For a few seconds, I stood frozen in front of the small mirror. I eyed my reflection, taking in the dark bags, a faded bruise on my upper cheek, blue eyes that didn’t seem all that blue anymore. With a choked cough, I turned away. Putting the cap in the bathtub, I turned on the hot water, running my hand under the faucet while adjusting the temperature until it was just above warm. Uncapping the bubble bath bottle, I poured out what was left into the tub. It was too early to take a bath, which I usually take after dinner or work, whichever came first.

Turning on Pandora and selecting my favorite playlist, I stripped. With my clothes in the laundry hamper,  I stepped into the mound of bubbles. Music drifted in and out from Katy Perry to Halsey and other random artists as I sunk into the tub with a content sigh. I hummed along to the songs that came on as I soaked in the lavender scented bath. Opening my eyes briefly to grab my shampoo bottle, I saw a man with a leather jacket and stained jeans standing _inside_ _the bathroom._

I let out a high pitched shriek, sitting up until the other man started to protest vehemently. “How the fuck did you get in here? If you don’t get out, I-I’ll throw this at you!” I shouted, picking up my conditioner and raised it threatening over my head. The man whirled around quickly, eyes growing large when he saw me in the tub.

“I don’t know!” He shouted back, “One second I was at the gym and then…” He trailed off, eyebrows pinching in thought. I watched as realization washed over him in an angry wave. “Pidge laced my food with fucking LSD.”

I smiled at his conclusion. “Why would this Pidge lace your food with a hallucinating drug?”

“How the fuck should I know? They’re fucking crazy.” The stranger answered.

I sighed in annoyance. I sunk my scarred body underneath the bubbles, aware that my still healing marks were visible. “What I’d like to know is why do I keep meeting people while I’m taking a bath?”

“Excuse me?” The dark haired man inquired with a raised eyebrow. His violet eyes unnerved me, and I worried briefly that he would be able to see my marred skin underneath the mound of bubbles.

“I met a soldier in Afghanistan two days ago after I took a shower.” I explained, wincing at how insane I sounded. Shiro was probably right about keeping that tidbit of information to myself.

“Uh-huh, I believe you.” The stranger deadpanned, crossing his arms as he leaned against the small bathroom countertop. I scowled at his tone of disbelief. “You're not concerned at all, about a stranger being in your house?”

“I’m too tired to care at the moment.” I murmured, hand waving almost dismisfully in the air while I floated idly in the water. “Name is Lance, by the way.”

“Keith.” He replied, eyeing me with a blank look. We were silent for a second before his eyes widened slightly as if a thought struck him  “You know, it wouldn’t hurt to listen to something  _ other  _ than Pink or Katy Perry. Some rock and idie would do you some good.”

I frowned, wanting to know how he knew what type of music I had been listening too. A Pink song hasn't even came on yet.“How…”

“It’s all I have been hearing the past  _ week,  _ now that i think about. Everyone was convinced I was losing my shit. No matter how high I turn my shit up, yours just gets louder. It’s like it  _ seeps  _ into my mind.” He said in agitation, running his gloved fingers through his hair. I swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. I mean… it wasn’t  _ my  _ fault. How could it be, when he was the one hearing what he shouldn’t?

“And what’s wrong with Katy Perry?” I demanded, rising up slightly in defense.

“Nothing,” Keith raised his hands in defense. “But some variety would do you some good.”

Figuring I would probably meet him again, like I had done with Shiro, I asked what type of music he liked.

“Why?” He asked suspiciously, leaning against my bathroom door.

“Well, that soldier visited me again yesterday, so it only makes sense to assume that I will be seeing you again as well.  _ Hopefully _ when I’m not naked.”

“I dunno,” Keith said thoughtfully, eyeing me with a small smirk. “I kinda like what I see.”

“Fucking pervert.” I hissed, rolling my eyes, making him chuckle.

How many people would I meet like this?


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked on this last night watching Atomic Blonde while listening to my hamsters run on their wheels and my fish tanks running. I’m sorry that this chapter is shorter than usual. There was a lot going on simultaneously. 
> 
> Lance works at a greek reataraunt, and everything mentioned is based off my experience at The Simple Greek. I normally worked from 9-5, sometimes till 6-7p.m. It was very repetitive work as head chef, cutting up the same veggies and making the same sauces every day. As soon as I got home I would pass out.

It was currently nearing 9 p.m when we had to kick the last customer out of the restaurant. Rolo and Nyma was supposed to go on a date tonight, but since one of our coworkers called in sick, Rolo had to come in. So as the nice human being I tell myself I am, I offered to close by myself. 

“Really? Thanks a lot man, I'll owe you one.” Rolo said gratefully, donning his coat hastily before clocking out and leaving to have a nice evening out with Nyma. With a tired sigh, I grabbed the desensitizer and paper towels before wiping down the tables and chairs. Once they were all cleaned, I piled the chairs neatly on top of the tables so I could sweep and mop the floors. 

Normally it would take about 45 minutes to close; but since I was by myself, it would take twice as long. I wouldn't be home till about 10:30 p.m. It would not have been as bad if I had something to look forward to when I got back to my apartment, but there wasn’t. Considering that I have worked since 12 a.m, my arms and feet ached as I carried out the last duties of the night.

Once the dirty rags were tossed in the hamper, cleaning supplies put away, and the dishes, counters, tables, chairs, and restrooms were thoroughly cleaned, I left. I locked the place up behind me, making my way back to my place.

The entire way there I listened to the playlist Keith made on Spotify. I couldn’t help but admit that  _ some  _ of the songs were more than okay. Every few seconds I could find myself nodding my head or humming to a beat I barely knew. It’s refreshing, listening to something new. Normally I listen to the same songs on repeat, an accurate representation of my life. Stuck in the same routine 24/7. I walk as quickly as my tired legs can carry me through the dark streets, never looking at the men hanging out outside the bar or the mouth of the alleyways. 

Without incident, I walk inside the lobby of the complex building. This morning the elevator had been fix, but now there was an out of order sign taped to the doors once again. With an aggravated huff, I took the stairs. I was halfway up the staircase when I suddenly tripped over something,  falling flat on my face. Instead of hitting concrete, I landed on a pile of papers spread out on a carpeted floor. I yelped, scrambling to my feet. 

“What the- fucking  _ hell  _ Lance! You ruined my papers!” The voice belonged to Keith, who was currently glaring at me. I scoffed, pushing myself off the floor, careful not to step on his  _ precious  _ paper. “How the hell was I supposed to know where I was going to land? I was walking up some fucking stairs!” 

Keith just stared at me as I bent down to straighten the crinkled paper, setting them in a pile. “Are you okay?”

I exhaled slowly, quickly gathering the last of the papers before thrusting them at him. “Just had a long day at work.”

“Do… do you want to talk about it?” Keith asked hesitantly, accepting the paper from my hands. His violet eyes pierced my skin like a tattoo gun. Looking someone in the eye is the closest you can get to someone without touching. That’s what my mom always said. The eyes are like the gates to someone's soul, a window you have to climb through to understand someone fully.

I raised an eyebrow at him, surprised by the offer. “You don’t seem like the type of guy who would care about a stranger.” 

“I’m not,” Keith said with a shrug. “But then again our situation is quite unusual.”

I frowned at his response. “If you’re only asking because of our circumstances then don’t. There’s no real meaning if you don’t actually care.” 

Keith nodded, shuffling through the slightly wrinkled papers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.” I whispered. I took the brief pause between conversations to study his outfit. Keith wore black,  _ soft  _ sweats with a loose fitted grey t-shirt. His hair was pulled up in the back, making a small ponytail.  _ Fuck he looks hot _ . I have  always been drawn to the fighters, the guys that looked like your stereotypical bad boy. And man does Keith look like one.

“I was wondering if I would ever see you again.” Keith remarks, taking the wooden pencil he was chewing on out of his mouth.

“That makes one of you.” I said bitterly. 

Keith cocked his head to the side in question. “Who are you talking about? The other guy?” 

I jerked my head in a single nod. “He said he hoped we wouldn’t see each other every day.”

“Well,” Keith started off, his voice strong and raised. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

I was still upset about it though. Despite having Keith, I also wanted Shiro’s attention. There was something about the man. Maybe it was the obvious kind personality or the confidence he carried himself with. His grey eyes and attractive features did nothing to erase him from my mind. All day long, he was all I could think about. Tears pricked my eyes unwillingly. Why was I always such a mess? 

“Look, I know I don’t know you that well, but I feel like I have. It’s almost like we’ve walked the same streets our whole lives, seen each other in passing. But I know  _ that’s  _ impossible, because I know I would have remembered you.” Keith tells me, his eyes ablaze. 

I give him a wobbly smile, lips quivering slightly at the cheesy sentiment. “Me too. I’ve never met someone with purple eyes before.”  

“I’ve never met someone by teleporting before.” 

I let out a weak chuckle, praying I wouldn’t break down in this stranger’s home. How embarrassing would  _ that  _ be? 

“Where  _ do  _ you live?” Keith asked before hastily adding, “You don’t have to give me specifics, just a state or a country even.” 

“East Texas.” I replied, watching his face light up in surprise. 

“Seriously!?” He exclaimed, “I live in Texas too. What are the odds?”

“A million to one.” I expected him to he across the country, or maybe even overseas like Shiro. I watched as Keith tapped his fingers against his leg in a silent debate, fidgeting in his seat. “If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on… can I at least give you a hug?”

I let out a weak, breathy laugh. Instead of being home, taking a bath and procrastinating on my assignments, I was here. Sitting on Keith’s floor in my work clothes, smelling of greek food and lysol. 

Keith was offering something. Solace, maybe? Friendship? Whatever it was, it was an oasis in a desert. It would provide my mind relief from the onslaught of self induced loneliness. Keith held his hand out to me, ready to be withdrawn if I said no.

Keith and Luke had the same stare, the same look they would give me. Both had an edge to their personality. Cuss words and rock songs. 

Shiro and Luke had the same built, although Shiro was a few inches shorter… when Luke was still here, I barely reached his chest. And like Luke, the soldier wanted nothing to do with me. 

It was crazy, how both men were like Luke in so many aspects. It hurt, being around them, but it was nice. It was almost as if Luke was still here. 

I missed his smile, light but guarded. I missed Luke’s arms crushing me against his chest. I had come to terms with the fact that I that would no longer be able to cherish anymore of those moments. I should be devastated that Luke left me, but I was used to it by that point. The hate, the abandonment, the lying…  _ the lying _ .

_ “I don’t want to see you anymore.” _

_ “I never cared.” _

_ “You aren’t worth being the cause of my disownment.”  _

Every time we went through hard times, I was there to take his pain away and trade it with my happiness. He said multiple times that when he was around me he felt happy, and I was glad that I was helping him. However, I lied to him and he knew it. I didn’t know though. I thought I was telling the truth when I said everything would be fine, that life would get better. But maybe even after being given happiness, the loss of people he loved was too much. His sister, his best friend, and then the boy he meet three years ago. But letting me go was his own decision. 

I didn’t want that, but nobody listened to my wishes. All the dandelions I plucked, all the 11:11 wishes, the birthday candles, every star I wished on turned their backs on me. My wish came true but the universe was involved in a sick game and they played it well. He found happiness and peace, but not with me, even though he knew I could give it. Death provided it better. I couldn’t give him eternity. It’s appropriate I thought. That I was wishing on dead things. Time is dead. Stars are dead. Flowers are destined to die. Fire never burns forever… I prayed to Death and Death answered.  

But now, I had a choice. I could give Shiro a piece of my mind, demand  _ why  _ he didn't want to see me everyday when I damn sure wanted to. I  _ want  _ to open up to Keith, the walls I surrounding me suddenly feeling nothing like titanium, but like styrofoam blocks stacked on top of each other. I wouldn’t make the same mistakes as before.

My throat tightened as I eyed Keith’s open palm, an offering of some sort. I slowly took his hand, feeling the calluses on his fingers. There was slight bruising on his knuckles, as if he had gotten in a fight recently. God, what the hell was I  _ doing _ ? I raised his hand, bringing it up to cheek. I wanted to know if I would feel the fire I could see under his skin. If it would feel as comforting as the sun against my bare back on a silent beach. 

Right before his hand touched my face, there was a huge crash coming from one of Keith’s room. We looked at each other in alarm. Pulling his hand away, he reached into the couch cushion, pulling out a knife before silently prowling towards the room where the noise had came from. 

I followed closely behind, watching with bated breath as Keith whirled into the bathroom.

“Who the fuck are you?” Keith demanded angrily. I peeked my head in the room, figuring more than one person would be too crowded. I stared wide eyed at the large man sprawled dazed in the tub. 

“Shiro?!” 


End file.
